


A requited secret

by eldritcher



Series: The Song of Sunset Third Age [13]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-25
Updated: 2015-05-25
Packaged: 2018-04-01 06:29:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4009411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eldritcher/pseuds/eldritcher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lindir has kept his secret for a very long time. Now he doesn't have to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A requited secret

“Are you well?” Lindir’s voice broke into Elrohir’s pensive musings as they stood on the ramparts watching the King and Queen of Gondor exchange their vows amidst the throng of elves, men and dwarves.

“I am,” Elrohir smiled at his much older companion reassuringly, “Merely wondering as to how much hair my grandmother shall have left if the dwarves persist in asking for her locks.”

Lindir smiled at him uncertainly. Elrohir placed his right hand on his companion’s wrist and squeezed comfortingly. He would have to master patience to win Lindir’s regard. Those hazel eyes held nothing but love and sincerity. But behind them lurked a history; a history of kinslaying, captivity and loss.

“You have always reminded me of Erestor when you stare like this,” Lindir commented quietly, “I will never forget the first time I met him. His steady gaze made me wish that I was anywhere else but there.”

“I thought that you met Ada Elrond first…”

Elrohir trailed away uncertainly, not willing to delve where he might be unwelcome. Lindir rarely alluded to his past. It was funny, he decided. He seemed to have a knack of falling in love with people who had a troubled past. He glanced down at a resplendent Arwen, who was laughing as Aragorn carried her across the threshold of the castle. He brought back his gaze to an uneasily fidgeting Lindir. 

Elladan and Laiqua were coming to the ramparts, immersed in their conversation, their faces free from care and worries. For a moment, Elrohir envied their easy relationship. 

“He rescued me. In Greenwood. He was young then, and accompanied by a younger Thranduil,” Lindir spoke in halts and pauses, his eyes on the grey, overcast skies. 

Elrohir felt his regard for his companion grow higher. It must have cost Lindir a lot to even speak those few words. The fact that Lindir trusted him with these nuggets of the past blew away all his envy of those who enjoyed easy relationships. 

“I would never dream of encroaching where you are not comfortable to let me enter. If you wish to let your past rest, Lindir, I give you my word that I shall never bring up the matter again”, Elrohir said calmly, daring to place his hand on Lindir’s shoulders, “I am honoured that you have trusted me with what you have shared so far.”

Lindir smiled nervously and nodded. Elrohir cast about for words to lighten the conversation, desperately wishing that he had inherited Erestor’s suave manner that eased even the most restless of souls.

“I hold to it that you have an unfair advantage though,” Elrohir chuckled, Lindir eyed him curiously. Elrohir continued blithely, “I mean that you know everything that I have done. You have seen me from my infancy, I have no secrets from you.”

Lindir’s eyes sparkled in amusement as he laughed; his rich voice soothed Elrohir’s senses. Elrohir found himself relishing the sight. He would look for more tactics to see Lindir laugh again, he decided firmly.

“You are correct, Elrohir,” Lindir began smiling, “I am sure that I remember the number of times that you wet your bed in your infancy!”

Elrohir growled as Lindir laughed again. Then the younger elf smiled. It was interesting to note that his companion had a sense of humour; though it seemed to be hidden under many layers of protective blankness.

“Do you, now?” Elrohir demanded with a sour scowl. He had learnt the art of scowling at Elrond’s knees not for nothing.

“No.” Lindir said simply, his fingers tentatively brushing Elrohir’s wrist. He continued quietly, “Elrond and Erestor were your caretakers. They rarely let Elladan or you out of their sight if they could help it. They insisted upon being the ones who would sing you to sleep, who would hold you and play with you. I have rarely seen better parents. Indeed, for someone belonging to your family, they make stellar parents.”

“What do you mean? I assume that you are alluding to Galadriel when you talk of those in our family not being good parents…”, Elrohir said curiously.

“Not only Galadriel,” Lindir hesitated, “I have heard that Fingon and Maglor were poor parents to their children. As were Turgon, Curufin and Aredhel. But their heavy responsibilities might have stood in the path of their personal lives. In my own case…” He took a deep breath and plunged on before Elrohir could intervene.

“I was to be married. I was taken captive the week before my marriage to her. I had to tell you this or my already weighed down conscience would never forgive me.” Lindir murmured as he examined his shoes.

Elrohir stood stunned for a moment. This was not what he had expected at all, he mused bleakly. He had barely finished congratulating himself for managing this conversation reasonably well till then when Lindir had seen it fit to make this revelation.

He inhaled deeply and said, “So, this lady…Do you have any idea…?” He wondered if he dared ask if the lady was alive.

Why had he not taken his brother’s advice and chosen a partner who had a relatively less obscure past?

“I do not know…” Lindir’s voice was flat and resigned. “I have never made enquiries.”

Elrohir decided that he had no idea how to proceed. He made an eloquent sigh and spoke what his frankness inspired him to, “Lindir, if you wish to make enquiries, you must hurry before Cirdan and Galadriel leave. They might be the only people who know of her fate.”

Lindir nodded his head, and stood there; miserable and drained. Elrohir felt a sudden surge of protectiveness rise in him as he whispered, “And I wish you to know that I shall not let you choose her over me. Enough have I given up for the sake of the greater good. I will help you find what happened to her; to help you make your peace with her. After that, you must stay by my side. That is where you belong.”

“I shall not sail by your side.” Lindir replied harshly. “I am a kinslayer and I will not have my judgment affect your fate.”

“I am sure that my family doom is what I must actually fear. Your meager tally of kinslaying will never be more than a drop in the ocean when compared to the deeds of my illustrious ancestors”, Elrohir finished bluntly, “But I have no qualms in dragging you along with me to the end. You belong with me.”

Lindir’s eyes widened at the brutally blunt declaration. For a moment, he looked as if he was about to protest. But a blinding smile lit up his features the next instant and he laughed, this time gripping Elrohir’s shoulder.

“Stubborn half-elf.” Lindir murmured quietly as their gazes met.

 

Elrohir twisted a button on his tunic restlessly as he waited outside the noisy chambers.

“Enter!” Elrond’s voice was languidly relaxed.

Elrohir shook his head in fond amusement as he took in the scene before him. Elrond was sprawled on the floor, his head on Erestor’s lap. Half-open grey eyes greeted Elrohir’s stare warmly. Erestor was leaning against Glorfindel’s legs, letting the Balrog Slayer’s fingers play with his loose hair. Glorfindel smiled at Elrohir from his seat on the comfortable armchair before the roaring fire.

Galadriel and Thalion were murmuring in whispers as they examined a sleeping Thranduil. Elrohir thought that it was most unlike Thranduil to remain asleep through such an intensive examination.

“He is sedated, not asleep.” Erestor broke into Elrohir’s thoughts with uncanny timing.

“Must you do that?” Elrohir complained as he moved to stand before the fire.

“He is bored.” Elrond said wryly. “I think we should sedate him too.”

Elrohir and Glorfindel laughed even as Erestor scowled at Elrond before shoving Elrond’s head away from its comfortable position on Erestor’s lap.

“Where is grandfather?” Elrohir asked as he stalled for time.

Erestor raised an eyebrow, probably seeing through his ruse. Elrohir was grateful when Elrond answered, “Riding with Laiqua and Elladan. I believe that he was searching for you.”

Elrohir smiled. He loved their grandfather’s company despite the fact that Celeborn was prone to attacks of unwarranted haughtiness. 

“I hope Lindir is not uneasy in the midst of so many men.” Erestor yawned as he burrowed his head into Glorfindel’s hands.

“ADA!” 

Elrohir threw up his hands in despair. Galadriel chuckled as she joined him by the fire. He was amazed by the wealth of goodwill in her eyes, eyes that usually held only plans, counterplans and regrets.

“It was not a difficult guess.” She said amusedly as she watched her grandson fidget in a manner that greatly resembled his mother.

“All right.” Elrohir grit his teeth angrily. “I wish to court him.”

“I was wondering if I would have to preempt that too…” Erestor drawled nonchalantly, but his eyes betrayed his sudden happiness.

“Don’t play spoilsport, ‘Restor.” Elrond chuckled as he got to his feet and approached Elrohir. “I am glad that you have decided to take this step, my son, I am very glad.”

Elrohir smiled nervously as he walked into Elrond’s embrace. The familiar solid reassurance of his father’s presence lulled his doubts and fears. He would court Lindir, and win.

Elrond released him and Elrohir found himself in another pair of arms. Slimmer than Elrond’s, yet as strong and soothing. Elrohir sighed as he rested his head against Erestor’s shoulder, letting his father’s hands stroke his spine. He closed his eyes as he recalled the same arms holding him close on that frantic journey from the mountain when Elrohir had been dying. The same arms had held him when he had lost Arwen to her penance.

Lindir was right. His parents were incomparable. 

He raised his head to meet Erestor’s black gaze, now warmed and lightened by the naked love and affection that shone in them.

He would miss them dearly when they sailed. He looked pensively at the occupants of the room. They were those who had raised him into what he was now. What would he have left to lean on once they sailed?

“Lindir is a strong soul despite all his turbulent history. I am eternally indebted to him for saving Erestor’s life. I am proud that you have chosen him, Elrohir. He is worthy of my son.” Elrond said quietly. 

“Go now, and court him.” Erestor smiled as he released his grip on Elrohir’s shoulders. “I am sure that you can persuade Thranduil to teach you the basics of courting. He is an expert, having gone through the rigmarole twice in his life.”

“If you ask Thranduil to corrupt my grandson,” Galadriel glared at her nephew, “Then I shall sedate Thranduil till we sail.”

“Then perhaps you could take on my son’s tutoring?” Elrond chuckled.

“Tutoring in courting?” Galadriel seemed affronted at the very suggestion. “My dear Elrond, what makes you think that Celeborn and I have gone through something as bland as courting with love poems and flowers?”

“I have always suspected that the orgies of Doriath were not mere myths,” Elrond said mildly.

“Do you think that I can love him with all that I am? That I will forget Arwen?” Elrohir blurted out suddenly. 

This was what had been nagging him. He knew that he loved Lindir. But he would never let his love become a farce that filled in the void left by Arwen. The room fell silent and Elrohir stared morosely into the fire. 

“I fear that a part of you will always belong to her.” Galadriel said calmly, her serene voice making Elrohir stare into her blue gaze. “We have long lives, Elrohir. And it is often our lot that we lose what we love. Some of us are blessed again with another chance.” She smiled at the tranquilly resting Thranduil. “Then we need to be brave and take up that chance.”

“I have heard that Celeborn was your second attempt,” Glorfindel said with a hearty chuckle even as Elrohir thought upon her words.

Galadriel blushed before saying composedly, “Rumours abound when their subjects are noble and high-born.”

“That proves it,” Elrond said flatly. “Celeborn was your second attempt!”

 

 

Elrohir rushed to Lindir’s chambers, still smiling over the childish arguments that prevailed between Elrond and Galadriel. At least, he mused, they were not tearing away vindictively at each other as had been the situation in the past. Things had improved between Elrond and Celeborn also. Elrohir hoped that the camaraderie would last.

“You are in a good temper.” Lindir smiled as he opened the door and ushered Elrohir in.

“I think my good temper is mainly because I am anticipating a certain event; or precisely, a set of events.” Elrohir said quietly as he made to kneel before Lindir on a single knee.

He slipped on the wooden floor and fell forward. Lindir exclaimed and caught him by the armpits before helping him rise.

Elrohir cursed his clumsiness as he pushed his hair impatiently out of his eyes. A low, husky chuckle erupted in the room, distracting Elrohir from his task of arranging his disheveled hair.

He looked up to see Lindir doubled up with laughter. Elrohir scowled at him. But this seemed to be a mere aphrodisiac to Lindir’s laughter. The deep sound melted away Elrohir’s insides and he began laughing.

Lindir finally straightened and asked quietly, dabbing the tears of laughter from his cheeks, “Was this included in the set of events that you wished to set in motion?”

“I think it is now.” Elrohir smiled as he moved Lindir’s hand and replaced it by his own. He let his fingers caress Lindir’s wet cheeks and dabbed away the tears of mirth.

Lindir smiled wanly, his eyes sparkling in sincerity and wariness. 

“You need not go through the set of events. Life is to be lived, to be cherished.” Lindir whispered as he drew closer to his companion, resting his hands on Elrohir’s shoulders.

“But, going too fast may--” Elrohir began.

“Hush now.” Lindir placed a finger on Elrohir’s lips and regarded him seriously. “I once asked Erestor if it was worth the risk…He told me that the courage we have is better utilized in love than for the rest of the mundane matters. I am willing to take this risk.”

“Then so am I.” Elrohir said simply as he pressed a kiss to Lindir’s finger, “Let us build our requited secret, my friend.”


End file.
